All of us in Nevada know that last week, we lost someone magnificent: Joe Crowley, who served as president of the University of Nevada, Reno, for more than 23 years.

I knew Joe for most of those years, and since his retirement. I never thought I would write about his death, since I could not imagine a world without him. I so often turned to him for good ideas, so often sought his counsel and followed his lead. We worked together, always hopefully, always quietly, on a host of projects to benefit the university, to enrich the life of the arts and humanities in our community, and to help those in need because of poverty, oppression or injustice.

Joe worked without fanfare, never claiming credit, always laboring behind the scenes, always holding true to his ideals. I came to know his values: he wanted everyone in our community to have a share of the incomparable riches of the University of Nevada. He wanted those who could not afford a university education to have that precious chance to live and learn, love and thrive. He wanted to celebrate with us achievements in sports and in learning. He wanted those who come here as refugees, driven from their homelands by inconceivable suffering, to be welcome here, to make a home here in safety, with support, in our care. He wanted our distinction as a community to be more than prosperity, more than growth and tall buildings: He wanted us to be known for seeking knowledge, for making beauty, for the daily, humble work of loving-kindness.

Under his leadership, the University of Nevada established itself as a world-class institution. Through all those years of tough decisions and vigorous political engagement, Joe was steadfast in his devotion to his students, his state and his country. And after his retirement, his work went on — wherever he could help, however he could help.

I have never known anyone like Joe Crowley. He was, all at once, kind, thoughtful, brave and learned. He showed how knowledge and gentleness can work in concord, and how patience and listening are as vital as action and declaration.

Now he is gone. We will mourn, inevitably. But Joe Crowley was our teacher, and his life is a lesson for us all: he taught us to measure our lives by what we give. What we are, is what we give.

I write to celebrate him: his graceful presence and good spirits, his candor and humility; and the way, day in and day out, year after year, he made his life into a gift to this world and to all of us.

Reno native Steven Nightingale is a local businessman, author and philanthropist.